


Sweet Torment

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail





	Sweet Torment

Growling under his breath, he kept his eyes trained on her as she patently ignored him, recrossing her legs in that ridiculously short skirt -- why the hell did uniform skirts always come so short anyway, it was someone's dirty trick obviously -- and nibbling on the end of her pen. God, but he wanted to be that pen right now and it didn't help matters that the little bitch _knew_ what she did to him, _knew_ what doing things like that made him think of. She'd been even more of a pain than usual too, likely due to some stupid shit he'd done that she was deciding to make him pay for. Which was probably why he'd had a dry night, that had persisted into a dry morning as she'd managed to somehow evade him as she got up. And he just _knew_ she'd made it a point to see that he caught a glimpse of those skimpy red panties with the lace -- she knew he loved her in red -- and she _obviously_ had made sure to speak just a tad louder when she complained under her breath that she could have sworn her bra had shrunk in the watch because it didn't want to fit. The same way she'd decided that for whatever innane reason she'd wear black thigh-high socks instead of the normal knee-length ones she normally sported.

Bitch. It was all just some ploy to keep him tense and tormented all day, the tightness in the front of his pants and the awkward way he kept having to shift to hide an erection that was becoming all the more prominent attested to that fact quite well. And dammit if it wasn't working, seeing as he'd not been able to concentrate on anything all morning, especially not when it got close to time for morning break and she started stretching. Not the sort of little rotations of shoulders or neck, but the long, tendon-snapping stretches that arched her back and stretched her arms over her head, only serving to emphasize the slimness of her figure and the curve of breasts as they pressed against the fabric of her shirt. Add to that the faint little whimpering sigh of contentment and it wasn't a far stretch in his mind to the last time he'd seen her stretch like that, heard her make a different sort of whimper that ended in a moan of his name.

Reflexes sparking with heightened awareness, he was achingly conscious of the soft click of the clock as the red second hand made it's slow progression around the moon-round face. Only a few more seconds and he'd have a precious 15 minutes in which to deal with the current problem. Only... he had no intentions of dealing with it the way most teenage boys would. No, Kurosaki Ichigo had other thoughts on his mind. Most of which involved showing a certain haughty midget shinigami exactly what happened when she decided it was in her best interests to deprive him of what he'd gotten quite used to having.

Ichigo's brown eyes weren't the only ones that were trained on the clock, as Rukia sighed to herself and mentally calculated how frustrated and fed-up her orange-haired companion likely was. He was right, of course, though she didn't know whether to give him the benefit of an assumption to that nature. She _was_ doing it on purpose. Served the bastard right for being such a prick the other day when she'd gone to the trouble to go out of her way and make Chappy pancakes for breakfast only to have him give her confections a long stare and then loudly declare that there was no way he was eating something that didn't even _look_ like the rabbit it was supposed to resemble.

Thankfully, she'd had enough time to listen in on the conversations the other girls at school had here and there to come to one startling realization that had ultimately become a godsend. She could control him. Simply by depriving him of the one thing she'd never really stopped to think about. _Her_. It had been mind-numbingly simple when she'd sat down and thought about it, so many pieces and things falling into place that she'd never noticed about how the other girls behaved around men at times that it made perfect sense.

So she'd taken it upon herself to make a list of things she'd seen or overheard, things that were supposed to wrap a man around your finger -- she didn't really understand the expression, but she supposed it must be a good thing seeing as how all the girls seemed to want to do so -- and to put them into practice. She'd started out slow, little things like how she sat, how she moved, the way she sipped her drink or the way she tossed an errant strand of hair over her shoulder. And gradually she'd moved up the list, until that one day when he'd pissed her off -- again, it was pretty standard -- and she'd dropped the figurative bombshell by refusing all his advances and making sure that he couldn't get ahold of her that next morning. Or the one after that, though she didn't think his brain stretched much farther than a day or so.

By now, he was probably about to go mad with the tension. She'd noticed him shifting around out of the corner of her eye and the little bit of guilty smug thrill she got out of knowing she could have that sort of effect on him. Served him right, the prick. Glancing up at the sound of the bell, she smoothly slipped out of her seat with one of her typically charming smiles at the others and made her way to the door, keen senses keeping a watch on the mass of angrily swirling reiatsu that marked Ichigo's constant position. Oh no, she couldn't let him win this game, not when she was having so much fun.

She thought she'd managed to elude him, and he'd definitely caught the slight grin on her face as she brushed past him, knowing full well that he couldn't _do_ anything about it in front of everyone else. Well, that showed what she knew. Sure, his skills at sensing and tracking reiatsu might have been shitty at best but there was something to be said for other senses. And _those_ at least functioned adequately. Which meant that it wasn't very hard for one frustrated, hormonal teenage boy to track down his annoying, frustrating, irritating..... well, whatever she was.

Rukia let out a slow breath as she leaned back against the side of the gymnasium, closing her eyes as she rested the back of her head against the cool brick. She wasn't about to admit it, but this whole plan of hers had it's downside. Namely the fact that Ichigo wasn't the only one feeling the absence of their usual "activities". Gritting her teeth for a moment, she simply concentrated on her own breathing, the feel of the slight breeze against her face, the scent of sandalwood.... Frowning slightly, she noticed for the first time that the warmth of the sun had dimmed, as though a shadow had fallen over her. Opening her eyes, she barely got a chance to blink up at Ichigo's tense face for a moment before he'd pounced, lips crashing into hers as he pinned her up against the wall.

He'd caught sight of her as she'd slipped behind the gym, grinning slightly at the sheer convenience of it. It was probably part of her plan, but damned if he was going to let her know he'd figured that out. Moving as quietly as he could, he'd watched until she closed her eyes and had taken advantage of that moment to strike, resting one arm against the wall above her head and letting darkened amber eyes bore holes into her forehead. He could have just struck, but it would be more satisfying -- not to mention he was at least marginally less likely to be murdered -- for her to see him first. For her to know that he'd seen through her little game. Resisting the urge to growl with an almost predatory edge, he watched until he noticed the slight shift of long eyelashes, caught the first hint of violet and took that moment to close the distance, catching her mouth in a rough kiss, body pressing up against her smaller form, sandwiching her between his weight and the wall.

Her gasp of surprise was swallowed up by his hungry mouth as he deepened the kiss with a growl, tongue pushing past her lips as he slanted his mouth over hers, ignoring the outraged squeak she let out as one hand came up to impact solidly with the side of his head as she attempted to shove him off of her. Oh no. Not this time, he wasn't going to just give in and let her have her way this time. She'd spent the last 3 days -- yes, he DID know how long it had been -- tormenting him and she honestly expected him to just shut the hell up and let her keep doing it? Not fuckin likely. Pulling back to hiss slightly as her fist found it's purchase in orange hair and she gave a yank -- not the friendly kind either -- he glared at her before grabbing the front of her shirt and just yanking, popping the top few buttons and yanking it down off of her shoulders to pin her arms by her sides with a smug look.

"Oh don't think I'm just letting you walk away..."

Hooking arms behind her legs, he hoisted her back up, still pinning her to the wall as he sealed his mouth back over hers to silence the angry protests. She was so tiny it was a simple matter to use his weight against her hips to pin her in place, thus leaving his hands free. With a groan, he tore his mouth from hers to nip at her throat, hands sliding up to cup over her breasts with a rough squeeze. his efforts were greeted by a string of gasps and half-hearted curses as she struggled to get her arms free.

"Idiot, get your hands off of me before I kidou you into next week! Or scream."

How dare he, she'd crafted this plan so carefully taken such pains to make sure that he couldn't get ahold of her, that he would be forced to actually _beg_ for it -- and not just when she had him kidoued to the mattress either -- and he actually managed to get the better of her. Well, that left a rather simple plan. Not enjoy it and deprive him of the pleasure of knowing he'd "won". Hah, that would get to him. Only... that was a very very hard thing to do right now, with his mouth attacking her throat that way. Not to mention the electric friction of his hips grinding against hers, pressing a prominent erection against her in such a way that it was hard to keep from whimpering with every motion of his hips. Sucking in a breath as his thumbs pressed over hardened nipples through the silky fabric of her bra, she fought to keep the scowl on her face, to not let him know how much he was turning her on right now and how much she was being forced to realize that depriving him meant depriving her and that in and of itself just didn't go real well.

"You can't kidou me with your arms pinned. And we both know you won't scream." Chuckling slightly to himself, he continued to palm her breast with one hand, biting down hard on her shoulder as his other hand slid down to caress her thigh before slipping under the gray pleats of her skirt. She couldn't keep fighting it forever, he knew her well enough to be able to tell he was having an effect on her. The way she was barely trembling, or how her breathing was so controlled it was obvious she was having to work hard to do so. Even the way her protests came in strained tones. And if she really didn't want it...

With a snarl, he attacked her neck with his teeth again, shifting her up a little higher on the wall and going for the buckle on his pants. "Liar. You're soaked."

There was no way she could hide the moan as his fingers brushed over the wet red fabric, breath hitching in her throat and head rolling back as her hips bucked against his involuntarily. It was really pointless now, seeing as he'd already figured out that she was in something of the same state as he was so she stopped trying to push him off of her and instead went about trying to wrest control back from him. Only... he still had her hands pinned so the only thing she could do was turn her head to seize his mouth again with a groan, rolling hips against his in a blatant "hurry up" gesture.

Oh no, she wasn't about to pull that sort of shit on him. Growling low in his throat he kissed back, he yanked the belt the rest of the way open, shoving his pants down his hips before shifting his grip on her legs long enough to yank the scrap of red satin aside enough to thrust into her all the way, a muffled groan on his lips. Firming his stance, breath coming in pants against her shoulder, he pulled his mouth from hers to grit his teeth as he set a fast pace, driving into her over and over again with all the pent up tension from the last few days.

There wasn't much she could do with her arms pinned by her sides other than gasp out his name with a moan and roll her hips against his in response, keeping up with the near-dizzyingly fast pace as his hips slammed into hers, pressing her against the wall with every powerful thrust as his teeth and tongue attacked her shoulders. And surprisingly, being bound this way, arms held and pinned at her side, unable to do anything but surrender to his whims only served to heighten the excitement, sending little tingling shivers down her spine as she wrapped her legs around his waist to draw him closer, deeper into her.

Ichigo growled her name in response to the tightening of her legs, slamming his hips against hers harder, faster, loving the way his name sounded as it spilled forth in little mewling cries from her lips, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough he knew she'd complain about the bruises later but it didn't matter, he didn't care all he cared about was burying himself further in that tight, wet heat, hearing her gasping his name in that strained tone he knew meant she was getting close -- which was a good thing because he knew he couldnt' hold out much longer either -- and he pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to her throat with a groan.

She could feel herself tighten, feel the muscles contract as the spark ignited and sent her over the edge, spasms radiating out through her frame as her legs tightened around him to pull him deeper as his name tore from her throat in a groan and her head nearly hit the wall behind her. His answering moan of her name and the sudden tensing of his frame as his climax hit him as well were the only things she was conscious of other than the rushing of the blood in her veins. Panting, he sagged against her, forehead resting on the cool concrete of the wall, eyes hazy and a faint smile on his face as the bell rang again.

"Just in time."


End file.
